Almost There
by Gandalf3213
Summary: What if Umbridge did more to stop the Weasley twins from leaving school? What if she actually prevented them from leaving?
1. Firing

**I own it not**

Fred poked his head around the corner, then, seeing that there was nobody there, motioned for his brother to go ahead. George stumbled under the weight of the box he was carrying.

"Fred," he grunted as he adjusted the box. "What in the world is in here?"

"A swamp." Fred replied quietly. Then, seeing the confusion on his brother's face, he said. "It's portable. Lee and I made it." He turned sharply, looking forward at a sound up ahead and missed the slightly hurt look on George's face.

"Well," George groaned. "Here's as good a spot as any." He put down the crate with a sigh and bent forward to open it. Fred, who was twenty feet away, acting lookout, turned around. His face suddenly blanched in alarm. "George, no!" he cried, but it was too late.

George was waste-deep in a thick, sticky green mud. Fred moaned in dismay and ran up to the edge of the swamp, grabbed his brother from under the arms, and hauled him out of the ooze.

George wiped some of the slime off his face and groped for his wand. "Scourgify." He whispered, pointing the weapon at his clothing and stiffening off the mud. Once, he was done, he turned to Fred, "So, that's not-" he cut off, hearing approaching footsteps. He motioned to Fred to follow him. The two moved swiftly behind a statue just as someone came around the corner.

Draco Malifoy stood gaping at the enormous swap that now spread across nearly the entire corridor. His ever-present cronies, Crabbe and Goyle stood behind him, dumbly glaring at the large obstacle.

Malifoy sneered. "I smell a Weasley. Or two, which is more likely."

The twins held their breath as Malifoy paced the corridor. They were ninety-nine percent certain that the witless ferret wouldn't find them but-

A strong hand clamped down on Fred's shoulder, bringing him to him feet. At the same moment, George was treated in the same manner. Both were turned irresistibly to face the smirking face of Draco Malifoy.

"Well, well, well." He drawled, looking at the Weasleys with amusement in his eyes. "I think the headmistress will be pleasantly surprised when we turn in two of the Weasels."

George stood still, eyes smoldering. If looks could kill, Malifoy wouldn't have had a prayer. But Fred, the more impetuous of the two, could let it lie.

"So," Fred asked in a mock-polite voice. "It's against the rules to walk down a corridor?"

"You know it was more then that." Malifoy sneered. "Or am I imagining this slime?" he nodded towards the now bubbling swamp. Then he turned to Crabbe and Goyle, both of which still had a heavy hand on one of the twins' shoulder. "Take them to Professor Umbridge in the Entrance Hall." He smirked at the Weasley's "I heard she got approval from the Minister to let Filch handle them."

The walk to the Entrance Hall was one of almost complete dread for the twins. By the weight of the arms on their shoulders, they knew they could never win in a fight. They also knew that slipping out of their captors' grip wouldn't work-this from experience. George had distracted both their "guards" by tripping over his own feet, sending both him and Crabbe flying towards the floor. In the same instant, Fred wriggled out of Goyle's grip and took off down the hall.

A thump in the nape of his neck brought Fred to a dead halt and caused him to see stars. He was still dizzy by the time they were brought to the Entrance Hall. To Umbridge.

To this day, the twins still don't know exactly what happened during and after the speech. They compiled this data with help from Lee Jordan, who was in the crowd that day.

"Accio, brooms!" The two yelled at the same time. Their brooms came speeding towards them, one still dragging the heavy chain that had bolted it to the wall.

"We won't be seeing you," said Fred, swinging one leg over his broom.

"Yeah don't bother to keep in touch." George added, following suit.

"Stop Them!" Umbridge shrieked, pointing a thick finger towards the brothers. The Inquisitorial Squad obediently raised their wands and shouted, in one voice, "Stupify!"

The Weasleys' managed to dodge most of the spells. One lucky curse hit its' mark.

George never had a chance. The scream never even made it out of his mouth.

The entire hall seemed to hold his breath as George's limp body fell through the air. The only sounds came from the remaining Weasleys'. Their screams echoed around the hall.

Fred landed his broom and ran across the hall. His sneakers slapped on the hard tile. He kneeled beside his brother and felt for a pulse. Something-anything-that would give him some sign that George was alive.

He found none.

Some invisible barrier was broken. Sound seemed to rush back into the hall. Lee Jordan, joined by half a dozen other Gryffendors, started a small scuffle with a group composed of the Inquisitorial Squad. Ron and Ginny joined their brothers in the center of the Entrance Hall. Harry skidded to a halt next to Ron.

"Is he…"Ginny's words hung in the air. The last word was left unspoken, but all present knew what she meant.

Ron put a hand on George's chest and frowned. "I hope not, Gin." Ron's voice cracked, and he tried again. "I sure hope not."

Professor McGonagall came up behind Harry. "Fred, Ron, take that boy to the Hospital Wing." Her voice and the finger she pointed at George both shook. It was proof of how distraught she was that she used the Weasleys' first name.

"Minerva, I don't think that is necessary. That boy is merely unconscious." Umbridge came up behind Professor McGonagall, using a sweet, simpering voice.

"That boy." McGonagall said icily. "Is not breathing. If we do not act now he will not breath again."

Umbridge looked up into McGonagall's defiant face. "Very well, but I need Mr. Weasley. He has not yet served his detention."

Fred stood up and sent Umbridge a look that could kill. He didn't dare say a word, for fear that Umbridge would not allow George to be admitted to the Hospital Wing. He took one last look at George, hoping that his brother would be fine. He couldn't believe that just five minutes ago they were on their way to freedom.

Fred smiled as he passed Lee Jordan. He knew his friend would make the Inquisitorial Squad sorry they ever messed with the Weasleys.

As soon as Fred stepped through the portrait hole, he was bombarded with a ton of questions.

"What's going on, mate?" Lee's face was uncharacteristically worried.

"Yeah, what's up with that old toad?" Put in Ginny.

"What she do to you?" Ron asked quickly.

Fred stood there, looking from Ron to Lee, then from Ginny to Hermione, and finally at Harry. "She's still giving us detention, that's what the meeting is about. She wasn't worried about George or anything." Fred's voice was low and rushed. "But tell me, how's George? Is he okay? I went past the Hospital Wing on my way back but it was locked." His voice was so full of emotion that it caused all of the others to look down at their feet. Lee was the first to speak.

"Listen, mate, the good news is, he's not dead." He went on quickly, seeing that Fred was now extremely worried_. Not dead makes it sound like he's almost dead! _Lee thought. "But he's pretty bad off. I mean, I'm not a healer, or anything, but he didn't look good."

Fred frowned, "If you're trying to cheer me up, Lee, you're doing a pretty bad job of it. Just tell me straight out-" Fred blew out a breath and said slowly, "Will. George. Live. Or. Not."

Hermione, though taken aback by Fred's bluntness, answered, "Fred, if he was going to die, don't you think we would tell you?"

Fred smiled his first genuine smile since the confrontation with Umbridge. "Now that's good news. Do you know where he is?"

Ron shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Well, last I heard, he's in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfry shooed us away from there as soon as we brought him in, but I think he's supposed to be out of there in a week or two. She said you might be able to see him tomorrow if things go well."

Fred let out a whoop of joy and picked up Ginny. He twirled her around through the air as if she were four instead of fourteen. "That's great! That's great news!" he repeated over and over, as if trying to convince himself rather then the others.

Harry spoke for the first time. "Fred, what about Umbridge?"

Fred's enthusiasm seemed to drain right out of him at the mention of Umbridge. "I can't believe she's making us both do detention with Filch after she got that approval from the Minister to use the whips. I can't believe she's making _George_ do it after what she just did to him."

The sound of half a dozen, "Neither can I"s echoed throughout the nearly deserted room. Fred smiled gratefully at his friends.

"I think I need to be alone now, you guys, this is a lot to think about." Fred said wearily. The others hung back, hovering around Fred but not daring to talk to him. He had a look in his eye that could kill, and they knew that he wasn't going to let Umbridge's crime go unpunished.

* * *

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	2. Planning

**I own nothing**

Fred led a weary George down to the dungeons. He cringed every time his twin stumbled. _How can she do this?_ He thought miserably, thinking of Umbridge. George stumbled again and would have fallen if Fred hadn't caught him. George flashed him a weak smile.

George had only been out of the hospital wing for two days, and he wasn't early back to his old self yet. _He fell from nearly thirty feet in the air. _Fred remembered, shuddering. _It's lucky he didn't break his neck!_

And Umbridge still wants him to do the stupid detention. Fred would have taken both of theirs, if it meant that it would spare George from more pain. He remembered the speech Umbridge had given him about it.

"The two of you brought this on youselves," she had stated. Fred remembered hating her for the fact that she bunched them together, like one person instead of two, but that didn't matter now. "And the fact that your brother is hurt doesn't excuse him from serving out his punishment. As _Muggles_-" she spat the word out as if it left a bad taste in her mouth- "say, 'Do not do the crime if you can not to the time."

And Fred remembered shouting back-well, he'd said a bunch of nasty things, but the best argument he came up with was something like. "But you put George in the hospital wing!"

And the fiend **smiled**. She smiled like it was the best joke in the world. "Yes. But you were the ones trying to escape."

Fred cast around for some way out of this. "Listen, just…just let me take the punishment, please." He couldn't believe he was doing this. Of course, given the choice, he would gladly take two of whatever Umbridge had in store if it would help his brother. George was already hurt enough because of his stupid ideas.

Umbridge's smile stretched still wider. "Though that is most…honorable…I believe your twin would do well surving his own punishment.

Fred had bowed his head, despair washing over him. How would George survive a hundred lashes? He had been dead only yesterday.

Fred didn't realize that they were already there until he heard George knock on the door and Filch's high voice say in reply, "Enter!"

Fred looked at George; his face was pale and his lips were almost pure white, making the freckles that speckled his face stand out even more. Fred supposed that he must look the same. They nodded, and pushed the door opened as one.

Filch stood in the center of the empty dungeon. Just to his right was Umbridge, a silky smile on her huge toad face. In Filch's hand was a long black whip. Fred gave his brother a hard squeeze, receiving an appreciative glance in return. At least they were doing this together.

Once again, Fred tried to get his brother out of this. George could barely stand up and was leaning heavily on him. "Please, let me take both." George made a small sound but Fred ignored it. "He can't even stand."

Umbridge shook her head, "You may begin when you like, Mr. Filch."

"Which one of you would like the honor of being first?" Filch boomed, his voice filling the room. Fred was going to step forward. Of course he'd go first. But George was already speaking.

"I will."

Fred noticed a flicker of surprise ripple across Filch's face, but a second later, he was sure that he had imagined it. "Fine." Spat the caretaker. "Step forward, and take off that shirt. You won't be needing it."

George obliged without question, and, not for the first time, Fred wished that George was his normal self. If for no other reason then for the fact that they would then be able to make this into one sick, horrible joke.

Umbridge came to stand next to Fred. "Look what you're doing to your brother." She whispered, her huge face thrust in front of Fred's. "He despises you, you know. He hates you, same as everyone else. Your other friend, Jordan, we got him too." The seventeen-year-old turned his face away, looking straight at the wall. Her words echoed exactly what he had been thinking, though he knew there were lies.

It took nearly an hour, or maybe a little longer. George never let out a sound, and Fred was proud of him. Even in his state he wouldn't let Umbridge see him in pain. At one point Fred tried to go to his brother. Who cared what Umbridge did? But as soon as he took a step a wave of nausea had washed through him, so intense he couldn't move. He looked at Umbridge, saw her unbearable smile, and felt sick.

In the end, George was lying in a small heap on the floor. Deep red welts covered his back. A couple of them were bleeding. Fred was shaking with anger. If not for the fact that he knew he would get George in more trouble, Fred knew that he would have torn Filch limb from limb.

In reality, though, it was Fred's turn. He stood up, determined to do as well as George. Umbridge was examining George, who lay unmoving. "Mr. Filch, I do believe you didn't do yourself justice with this one. Please try harder."

Filch smiled, his crooked teeth showing. "With pleaser."

After about the eighth swing, Fred's mind switched off. He felt...detached from reality. He was only aware of the fire that had seemingly erupted on his back, and of George, who was lying feet from him, not moving.

Fred had no idea how long he had laid there. Only that some time late, Umbridge was gone and Filch was pushing his arms through a sweater and pouring some water on his head. Fred focused on the man's face, and swore he saw something there. Pity, maybe? Or guilt?

Fred bent down, and instantly regretted it. His sweater's material caused his back to erupt into fiery sparks and for a second, he saw white. The moment passed, though, and five minutes later he had managed to shove George's arms into the sleeves and stand his brother upright. It was only by leaning on each other and working slowly that they managed to make their way back to Gryffindor Tower.

They passed Lee, going in the opposite direction. Fred bit his lip, realizing that Umbridge wasn't lying about that particular part. The dark boy stopped, "You need help, Fred? How's George?"

Fred waved his comments away. "It's nothing, Lee. Look, I'm sorry I got you into this."

Lee shook his head, "You didn't get me into this, it was my fault. Don't worry, Fred, we'll get her back." He reached out a hand and gently stroked unconscious George's sweaty hair.

Lee moved past Fred before he could ask anymore questions. Fred and George continued up to their dormitory.

"Hey. Hey!" Ron called. He had evidently been waiting up for them to get back. Fred vaguely wondered why. "Hermione! Get over here!"

Fred couldn't take it anymore. He lowered George's dead weight to the ground. His brother hadn't reawaken after his encounter with Filch. Then Fred let himself sink to the ground.

Hermione looked at the two boys worriedly, trying to remember the spell she had read up on last year. The one that made bruises and welts disappear.

"Dispario." She said, pointing at Fred's back and hoping that it was the right spell. It was, Fred groaned, and rubbed his backside. "You're an angel, Hermione." He said before moving over and letting her take care of George.

Before he helped his brother to bed, he said to Hermione. "Lee's going to be up soon. Turns out he got detention for leading the fight against the Inquisitorial Squad. Can you help him out?"

Hermione nodded. "Of course. I hate that old hag! I just hate her." She looked pleadingly at Fred, "If you think of a way to get even with her, tell me. I want to be in on it."

Fred nodded. That was exactly what he was going to do.

It was that very night that the rough ideas came into play. Lee, Fred, and even George stayed up late. Planning revenge.

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	3. Hurting

**A/N: I just saw the movie (I recommend it. It's worth seeing just for Looney) and loved the twins, so here's another chapter.**

Fred watched warily as Harry paced the room, every few seconds letting out a scream, causing sparks to fly out of the tip of his wand. "How could she do this?" Harry screamed, his voice echoing in the nearly deserted common room.

"'Cause she's evil?" Ron suggested dully.

Lee sat down on the other side of George, one hand slipping around his friend's shoulders, wincing as fire erupted in his back. "Calm down, Harry." He instructed, his voice soothing.

"Calm down? This is all my fault!" Harry collapsed in a chair, chest heaving.

Fred cocked an eyebrow, "How do you work that one out?"

Harry shook his head. "If it weren't for me and the stupid DA…"

Fred fixed him with a glare he often gave his brothers. Harry was as much his brother as Ron was, even more so than Percy. "Listen, the DA has nothing to do with this. She's twisted."

Harry met Fred's eyes and winced, then crossed over, lifting up George's shirt for proof. "She has to be stopped." He said, disgusted. Red welts covered George's back, criss-crossing each other. George gasped, suddenly, wiggling out of Harry's reach, his face expressing pain before he calmed down again.

Harry looked mortified. "Sorry George. I didn't mean to hurt you."

George turned to the younger boy, looking for the first time something like his old self. "You didn't hurt me Harry, don't worry." He clapped Harry on the back and sat upright, wincing again but other then that displaying no signs of pain.

Lee shifted slightly. Hermione, on the other side of the room, saw the dark boy bite his tongue, letting out a stream of swears towards Umbridge. Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, Lee, I'm sorry. I forgot."

She knelt in front of the boy, lifting his shirt gently to display similar marks, standing out brilliantly against the dark back drop. She muttered the same spell, blinking hard to keep from crying. She looked up. Ron looked sick, Harry angry. George looked defeated.

"We never should have tried to escape." George murmured, eyes on his knees. "Look where that's gotten us."

Lee stood up, planting himself in front of his friend. "No mate, what you did was awesome. You gave people hope. I think they're going to fight now."

George shrugged, but he looked like he didn't believe a word Lee said.

Harry growled, swiping his hand over a nearby table, scattering parchment and quills. "We've got to do something!" He growled, voice harsh.

"What are we supposed to do, Harry?" Fred stood up. The seventh year stood almost a foot taller than the younger boy. "We tried everything, we tried to escape. Look where that got us!" he gestured to George, who sat on the couch, a carbon copy of Fred except for the scars from the fall, and to Lee, who was watching the conversation through dark eyes, his face unreadable. "George nearly died, Harry!"

Harry looked taken aback by Fred's sudden outburst, then gathered himself up again. "This time it won't just be the three of you. I promise. I'll help, the DA will help. We'll win, Fred."

Fred looked doubtful. George piped up, "We still have some fireworks, Fred. She didn't seem to like those very much."

Fred turned to him, and saw Lee, his face thoughtful, "You know, I bet I can reconfigure the Swamp so it can go down stairs."

Ron spoke from a corner of the room, "Don't worry, Fred, me and Hermione can take on the Inquisitorial Squad. It'd be cool to see them barfing up slugs."

Hermione nodded fervently, "Ginny would be awesome with that hex."

Harry looked at Fred. "We need you, both of you." He included George. Harry smiled. "Hogwarts best mischief makers." He saw Fred relenting, added, "I bet you could have given my dad a run for his money."

Fred looked at the boy and smiled. He knew it must have taken a lot for his to say that. His expression wavered for a moment, doubtful. "I almost lost my brother, Harry. He almost died. I can't let that happen again."

Harry was confident, his voice reassuring. "It won't, Fred. I promise."

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	4. Making

**I don't own Harry.**

It took two days to alert the DA.

It wouldn't have taken as long if Umbridge hadn't had the Inquisitorial Squad following the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, and Lee. They did manage to contact most of the non-Gryffindor members in the halls or classes.

"Hey Cho!"

Harry had had serious thoughts about not letting Cho back into the DA. They hadn't talked since that day he'd passed her going down the his hopeless Occlumency lesson. Now he was flagging her down in the hallway after shaking Goyle by going down one of the many passageways.

He told her the message he'd been given every one of the DA members before hurrying off, leaving her staring at him, puzzled.

It had been Fred, George, and Lee's job to re-build their stocks of fireworks, the Snackboxes, and the swamp.

"No, that won't work. You want people to get stuck in it, not die."

Lee looked up, frustrated, at George who was bent over a piece of parchment with complicated-looking equations and spells scrawled over it. Since George still couldn't stand up for more than five minutes at a time, he had taken over Lee's usual job of checking all the equations, making sure people didn't die.

"You won't _drown_ in this. It has to be this thick or you won't get caught." Lee was kneeling next to a large trunk that held the newest edition of the swamp, which would be perfect if they could stop the action figures they were using as test dummies from drowning. "If these were full sized you'd see."

Fred, sick of hearing the argument, waved his wand from across the room and made the figures grow to six feet tall. Lee hastily expanded the box. The action figures still sunk in the muck.

"See." George said, raising an eye-brow. He circled a section of the parchment and shoved it at Lee. "Just make it_ that_ much thicker," he pointed to one long number which included decimals to the eighth place, "And use that spell. Non-verbal." He pointed to one word scrawled hastily on the corner of the parchment.

Lee looked at the word, then called over to Fred, "Did you already use this spell?"

Fred, startled, accidentally set off a firework with a bang, making it blow up in his face. "You okay?" George asked, seeing blood drip from below his brother's eye. Fred nodded and hastily siphoned off the blood with his wand, closing the wound. "Which spell, Lee?" he asked, his voice tense.

Lee read the word off the paper, and Fred nodded. "Don't worry, it's safe."

The twins used so many home-made spells that Lee refused to perform them after one incident when he blew his left arm out of it's socket (Madame Pomfrey had fixed it and told the boys that if they had to duel, please make it outside the school grounds.)

The swamp, which just fit inside the dormitory, bubbled when the bolt of purple light hit it. The action figures, which had been gone from sight just moments ago, were visible once again and were stuck even when Lee and Fred both tugged on them. They could only get them out with a severing charm.

* * *

The meeting was a hurried recital outside the Gryffindor common room. Harry laid out their plans in front of the eager crowd, all of whom were itching to get back at Unbridge.

"So basically, your guys' jobs are just to play distraction at those times for about five minutes. I don't care what you do, just don't get caught." Harry swallowed as the group looked back at him eagerly. He knew if they got detention it would be his fault, and for now, getting detention was no laughing matter.

Ernie McMillian, who was standing at the front of the crowd, asked the most obvious question, "So, what happens while we're distracting Umbridge?"

Harry raised his voice so that the twenty people standing in front of him could hear. "Fred and George have been working on something, something that will get Umbridge really worked up."

Luna asked the next question, her voice dreamy, "Oh, so they're out of the hospital wing?"

"Yeah, and this is going to be amazing, so I figure if we got twenty people all over the school doing something, Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad will all be too busy to tail Fred and George."

Just then Ron came burst through a door that had seconds before been plain wall. "Harry, she'd coming."

"Scram, guys!' Harry said, watching as they all darted off, some of them going down the stairs, some fleeing down the corridor, and still others going through the door Harry ad come through leaving Harry and Ron standing in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"You sure this is a good idea?" Ron muttered to Harry as the last cloak disappeared around the corner.

"It's going to be fine, Ron. C'mon, let's get inside before the toad gets here."

From behind him, the Fat Lady spoke lazily. "That's the spirit, boys."

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	5. Hiding

**I won them not.**

It had started off so _well_. Maybe that's why it had happened.

Their first victory over Umbridge happened the day after everyone knew their parts. The pieces were set. The game was about to begin.

Fred knew that he was in the middle of it. He, George, and Lee were carrying the swamp to the top of the stairs. They had figured out, long ago, the exact pattern of the moving staircases. If they let out the swamp at the right moment, it would hit Umbridge as she went into the Great Hall to figure out what the "disturbance" was about.

"Okay, so Lee, you're first. You ready for this, mate?" George was leaning against the banner of the steps, his wand pointed directly at the trunk that held the swamp. Lee had the hardest job by far. In order to open the truck you needed two wands and someone to unlatch the front. Lee got to be that person.

Lee's long finger stretched out until it was a millimeter from the button that would unleash the swamp. Fred was looking over the banister, counting the rotations of the staircases. "Okay, on my mark…now!"

The trunk burst open with a burst of light. Lee hopped delicately out of the way as the swamp cascaded down the stairs, trapping everyone in its path until it finally landed on Umbridge's huge toad-like head.

Screams of laughter from the Great Hall made even those trapped on the stairs look around. Umbridge was trying desperately to rid herself of the slimy goo that was slowly forming a small pool around her ankles.

Lee, Fred, and George, however, were sprinting down the opposite hallway, trunk held high by Lee's hovering charm. "Room of Requirement!" George reminded, and the boys paced in front of the stretch of empty wall three times until an ordinary-looking door appeared from it.

The room had transfixed itself, as the boys had requested, into a room with what appeared to be windows on all sides. Through the windows they could see out into the corridor (where Malifoy and his cronies were running) outside the Great Hall (where Umbridge was slowly being buried in the slime) and inside the Great Hall (where even the teachers were laughing)

The boys turned to each other, grins spreading across their faces. "That feels good!" Fred said, clapping Lee on the back and earning himself a tremendous, "Ouch!" from the boy.

"Oh, sorry Lee, I forgot." Fred sent a numbing charm in the direction of Lee's back, smiling bashfully.

George was smiling broadly at the sight of Umbridge staring around the Great Hall. "Look, she can't even think of someone to blame!" The three roared with laughter again.

"So tomorrow's the fireworks, then?" Fred turned away from the magical mirrors to address his partners in crime. Lee nodded.

"And who's the distraction for that?" George asked.

"Ginny, I think. And that boy Ernie What's-his-name and Loony." Fred grinned at the nickname, though he had actually gained a lot of respect for the blond fourth-year who never seemed to be frightened of anything.

Lee was smiling too, but he was fingering the scars on his hand that showed from Umbridge's old, less offensive detentions. "Yeah, to sure felt good to get her, didn't it?"

Silence made them look at the magical windows. The Great Hall had become quieter than it had ever been. "Where are the Weasleys?" Umbridge asked, in a tone of voice that indicated she had already said the question.

"How could she know?" Lee asked, gaping at the screen.

George was the first to snap out of it. "Does it matter, she knows it's us!" his voice held an edge to it that made Fred look at him sharply. His brother was afraid of this old toad…_no._ he coorected himself automatically. _He's afraid of her detentions._

"We have to get out of here!" Lee was already at the door, about to pull it open.

Fred and George shouted at him at the same time. "No! We're in the Room of Requirement, mate, she can't find us here!"

"Didn't stop her finding the DA!" Lee retorted, but before he could open the door it burst open of it's own accord.

It wasn't Umbridge hurrying through the door, but Harry and Ron, looking white, "Guys, she's coming!" Ron's voice held the same edge as George's. Fred winced, then turned to Lee.

"Go, Lee, she doesn't know you're in on this."

"No way!" Lee's voice was loud and full of frustration and impatience, determained. "You are _not_ facing that hag my yourself! I'm staying!"

George shoved him out the door, "Go, Lee!" his voice was low, pleading, "Please, we can't have you hurt again."

"You can't afford to be hurt again!" Lee retorted, causing George's ears to turn red.

Fred was at his twin's side. "Please, Lee. Please, for us. Get out of here. Go back to the common room."

Lee looked between the two of them before taking off down the hallway, his shoes slapping against the cold marble.

"Get inside, you gits!" Ron tried to tug his brothers back in the door but before he could a low, drawling voice echoed from behind them.

"Well well well, what is this?" Draco Malifoy came into view, Crabbe, Goyle, and at least a half-dozen other members of the Inquisitorial Squad visible behind him.

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	6. Dying

**I don't own them.**

Harry was panting, his wrists straining against the chains that bound him to the wall. He was trapped, as was Ron, Fred, and George. Ron was right next to him, his face looking green in the low light of the torches of the wall as he stared at his brothers.

Fred and George were chained to the floor by their wrists and ankles, shirtless. Fred was writhing against his bonds, trying without success to reach his twin, who was mimicking his actions a few feet away. The long lines on their backs had half-healed into pink stripes that made Harry's back hurt just looking.

"I told you not to get another detention."

Umbridge laughed and the sound sent a shiver down Harry's spine. What would she do? He wanted more than anything to get Fred and George out of this. They hadn't wanted "in" in the first place. He had promised that George wouldn't get hurt again. They trusted him.

Umbridge positioned herself in front of Fred, her eyes gleaming. "Two detentions in a week. Tut tut, Mr. Weasley, it looked like you've learned nothing." She nodded to Filch, who was standing behind Fred, and he drew out a long whip with spirals of metal running around it. Smiling, he drew the whip up. It _cracked_ as it hit Fred's back and he let out half a scream before biting his tongue hard enough to draw blood.

Ron let out a gasp and struggled harder against the metal, his ears red, not with embarrasment but with anger.. Harry stared at Umbridge as if by looking hard enough he could make her drop dead. A steady stream of swear words left his mouth.

Another _crack_ drew flesh from bone and left Fred writhing on the ground, trying desperately not to make a sound. George screamed, "Fred!" until a curse hit him full in the face, knocking the wind out of him.

Fred looked straight at Umbridge, "You filthy hag." He began, his voice less than a whisper, but Umbridge held up her hand to stop him.

"None of that, Mr. Weasley. I just need you to tell me…who else was in on this little project with you?" she stooped next to him, so Harry and Ron had to strain to hear the words. "Was it that Mudblood, Granger?" she asked, smiling widely at Harry and Ron.

"Don't call her –" Fred began fiercely but then Umbridge placed her wand in one of the deep cuts left by the terrible whip. A burning sensation so painful that Fred screamed out loud radiated through his body. He could hear George scream through the fog that clouded his vision, see Umbridge's gloating, toad-like face.

Umbridge stoof up again, still smiling broadly. "Or was it that lying sister of yours?" Before Fred could retort, Umbridge nodded again to Filch and the whip sliced into his back for a third time.

Harry turned his face away as the scream turned into a whimper of pain. He could see George fighting wildly against his bonds and wondered if he felt the same icy coldness that had seeped through Harry's body.

"Not ready to talk, then?" Umbridge stood directly between the twins and pointed her wand at George. "_Crucio_!" she shouted and George was suddenly writhing on the ground in agony. Harry remembered the feeling of the Cruciartus Curse, of the hot knives that seemed to stick themselves to every inch of his body. Harry remembered the pain being so bad he had wanted to die.

"No!" Fred's tortured scream echoed through the small room. He struggled against the bonds, half sobbing as he called to his twin.

"Stop it!" Ron shouted, his face suddenly contorted into a snarl of rage as the torture stretched on for a minute that could have been a century. He was fixated on not George but Fred, who had pulled so hard against one of the chains that his wrist had broken with a resounding snap.

Umbridge smiled even more widely before she removed her wand from George. Even without the curse George was still shaking uncontrollably as he lay panting on the ground.

Harry's mind raced. The Crutiartis Curse was Unforgivable. It was an automatic life sentence in Azkaban, and a teacher had just used it on a student. A student who she had nearly killed a week before.

Umbridge turned her back on George, who couldn't move except to shake, and addressed the other three boys. "Now, who else is in your little troop?"

They said nothing. They wouldn't, couldn't, condemn the others to this. Umbridge nodded at Filch and he struck Fred once, twice, three times, each time leaving long, jagged areas devoid of flesh. Blood spilled onto the dungeon floor.

"Please…" Ron said weakly, his voice trembling with rage, "Please, let me take it…"

George raised his head a fraction of an inch. "No, R-Ron." The stutter at the end nearly drove Harry insane. Umbridge smiled at Ron and Harry.

"I'm not sure you know why you are here." She said softly. "As you four are the only ones we have caught red-handed, you are the first to serve detention." She leaned closer so only Harry and Ron could hear her. "And you two get to see what happens to trouble makers. I have no intention to hurt you."

She turned back to the twins, her voice determandly calm. "Once more I ask you. Who. Else. Is. Doing. This."

When her words were greated with another silence, she shrugged, smiled again at Fred, and pointed her wand directly at Geroge's chest. "_Crucio!"_

George, who hadn't started breathing normally after the last one, was once again twitching on the ground. The chains stretched as George tried desperetly tried to get out of the line of the spell. Harry's rage was so great he felt like he wanted to hit something. Umbridge was hurting him more this way than she ever could have. He felt so helpless.

"Stop, please!" Fred's voice was loud in the large dungeon. He had locked eyes with George as if he could take some of the pain away. "Please, stop!" his voice had retreated to a whisper. Umbridge did acted as if she couldn't hear him.

A minute passed...two...Harry had never seen the Cruciatus Curse performed on anyone for this length of time. Geroge had stopped screaming. His voice had given out. He was still writhing on the floor, his eyes imploring his brother to help him.

"Professor..." It was Filch's wheezy voice that brought the teacher back. She looked around as if she'd never seen the room before, the smiled again.

George was still shaking. His teeth were chattering. He opened his mouth as if to speak. he couldn't make the words.

Umbridge turned back to Filch. "Twenty-five strokes each, I think."

Fred looked at her, his eyes full of the deepest loathing. "You filthy toad." He gasped, and Harry saw the tears that had traced paths down his cheeks.

"Make that forty for this one, Filch." She laughed quietly and stepped back, though not before saying, "Don't worry, we're rounding up your friends as we speak. I think the Jordan boy is next, right?"

"Yes ma'am." Filch said, his voice quieter, and the blows started again.

Harry could watch. He turned his face away. He didn't know how the twins didn't utter a sound except for a deep intake of breath before the first one.

When Harry finally turned around, Filch and Umbridge had gone.

**Gosh, I'm so mean to them.**

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	7. Ending

**I don't own them.**

"Fred...oh, Fred..."

Ron knelt next to his brother. The moment the door had closed the chains that had bound him and Harry to the wall had realeased them. "Fred?" he touched his brother's head, sweeping the sweaty hair back. Ron glanced at Harry, who was kneeling next to George, then screamed with a sudden rage, "She could have killed them!"

Harry ran his hands over George's back. Nearly all the skin had been cleared away and white bones were shining through, just barely visible in the dim light left by the torches. Harry hoped his spine hadn't broken under the stress. He pressed his fingers to George's neck. "He's not breathing right Ron. Ron?"

Ron was kneeling over Fred, who had re-awoken with a start and a cry of pain. Fred's eyes were glazed as he glanced up, first at his younger brother, then at Harry and George. "You guys..." he shuddered, biting his lip and arching his back as a wave of pain washed over him. "Okay?" he finished his sentance with a small squeek that made Harry even more angry at Umbridge, if it was possible.

"Yeah, we're fine." Ron's hands were moving over Fred's body, checking his hands and feet and his back, which had been cut up even worse than George's. "You aren't, though."

George still hadn't opened his eyes. When Harry put a hand to his neck, he found that the heartbeat was still eratic. "Ron, go find Madam Ponfrey." He knew that they couldn't move the twins like this. Even now his jeans were soaked with their blood.

"She's probably watching the hospital wing." Ron didn't have to explain who 'she' was. He didn't seem able to wrench his eyes from his brothers and Harry saw the fire in his eyes. He wanted Umbridge. He wanted to get her back for this.

Harry tried to keep his voice calm as he instructed his friend. "Ron, we need somebody. Now." He didn't like the cold sweat that coated George's neck, or the way Fred's eyes remained unfocused. He barely registered the door opening and closing and he searched fruitlessly for a wand. If he could only get these bindings off he'd be able to examine the boys more closely.

Fred seemed to be trying to get up. With a last worred glance at George, Harry knelt next to Fred. "Stay down." he commanded him, seeing his freckled face turn white witht eh strain of pulling himself up. Fred coughed out a great spout of blood and collapsed back to the ground, his broken wrist dangling uselessly from the chian. "Don't worry." he said to Harry's expression. "Bit my tongue." his voice was barely a whisper and it seemed to Harry that he was passing back into unconsciousness. He shook him to keep him awake.

A moment passed in which the two boys locked eyes, then Fred muttered, "George?" Harry wanted to look away, wanted to lie and say everything was alright with his twin. Instead he shook his head slightly, "He's not...he's not doing very well."

Fred's working hand clenched into a fist, his foggy blue eyes brimming with tears as he looked past Harry to his brother. Harry sat in silence as he watched Fred take in his brother's unmoving form, saw him open his eyes to say something...

_Bang_.

The door burst open with such a fury that Harry lept to his feet, his hand going instictively to his now wand-less pocket. But it wasn't Umbridge or Filch who raced through the door, as Harry had expected. It was Ron, followed closely by Professor McGonagal, who was wearing a dressing gown, her hair loose about her face.

"Professor!" Harry's relief showed through and his voice cracked over the word. Surely Professor McGonagal would know what to do.

The teacher glanced quickly over Harry and lingered on the still unmoving form of George and the hunched, bleeding figure that was Fred. "What happened here?" she asked, her voice holding both anger and resentment. Harry suspected that she already knew what had happened, but told her anyway.

"We got detention with Umbridge." he said, his words tripping out of his mouth in an effort to explain. "Fred and George...she beat them, Professor. And George." he glanced behind him, seeing a puddle of blood surrounding the boy and choked on his own words.

"George got the Crutiartus Curse." Ron finished quietly, his voice uneven as he shook in his rage. "He hasn't woken up since."

Professor McGonagal nodded, barely registering the words as she dropped in the space between the two boys. The space that was now rapidly filling with luminous crimson blood. Already she was making a catalouge in her head of the various spells and potions needed. Her hands passed over the back of the boy who was awake. She had never learned to tell them apart. She breathed out a hiss as she saw white protruding through. Skelo-Grow would be needed, and more potions besides if the nerves had been damaged.

She turned to the still-unconscious one, marvelling at the fact that he was alive at all. She remembered that barely a week before he'd fallen nearly a hundred feet, and now with that Curse and the loss of so much blood, _blood-replenishing potion for both, of course,_ well, youth was a blessing. An older wizard would surely have died.

"Potter, Weasley, you should return to your Common Room. Your wands are there, I think." she undid the shackles that bound the boys to the floor, a wave of fury washing over her. So this is what Doloris's detentions ahd turned into! She would have a word with the 'headmistress' about this. No other student would be hurt like this while she still taught in this school!

Ron's emotions finally broke out. "But my brothers, Professor!" he watched as she conjured two stretchers and carefully put the boys on it. Both were unconscious now.

"Will be fine, Weasley. Upstairs." Professor McGonagal noticed the shaking of her wordsm though she doubt the boys did. Potter pulled his friend out of the room, muttering to him something about the DA. Those brave boys. She turned back to her charges, lifting her wand from them for just enough time to shoot a jet of silver at the door. The cat ran through it. Poppy would need to be warned. She would have to work all night if these boys were to survive any longer.

* * *

Harry and Ron entered Gryffendor Common Room to find Hermione, Dean, Seamus, Katie Bell, Angelina, and Neville all waiting for them. "What happened? Are you alright? Where are Fred and George?" The two answered the questions as best they could. Both their heads were spinning from what they'd just seen.

"How could she?" Hermione summed up everyone's thoughts with the three words. They all gazed open-mouthed at Harry, who was struggling himself. He was already guilty. He kenw that. It was his fault...all his fault that Fred and George were hurt, that they would possible die, right now, tonight. He had talked them into revenge on Umbridge. Trying to orginize his thoughts, he looked around at the group again. Ron asked the question that was on his mind.

"Where's Lee?"

Katie answered, her voice shaking with tears. "He got called by Umbridge about twently minutes ago. She saw him running down the hall, you see."

This was too much for Harry. He slid into a chair and tried to take his brain away. He shouldn't be doing this. He was getting all these people into trouble. Nothing was worth this. The price was too high.

And eventually, everyone left, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat in the Common Room all night, waiting, perhaps, for two red-headed boys to come through the portrait hole.

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	8. Helping

**I don't own them.**

Harry fell asleep in the armchair, waking up when the morning's light struck his face from the window in the East. Ron was still asleep across from him, his face set in a frown of worry. Hermione was curled up in a chair across the room.

Sitting for a second, the reality of what had happened sank in. Umbridge had tortured the twins. She had used the Cruiatus Curse on George. They could be…they could be dead now.

Harry dropped his face into his hands. It was his fault…all his fault. Fred and George only re-joined their efforts because he, Harry, had pressured them into it. He had promised Fred that George wouldn't get hurt. He had promised.

He had no idea how long he sat there. It could have been ten seconds, or ten minutes. It was still early enough for no sane person to be awake, so his silence was not interrupted by people who neither knew nor cared what happened to the Weasleys' or Lee as long as it didn't affect them.

The portrait swung open with a soft creak that was nonetheless loud enough to wake Ron and Hermione up. They looked eagerly at the portrait hole and saw Lee, swaying slightly, push himself though it.

"Oh!" Hermione breathed as Harry and Ron rushed to help the boy into the Common Room. They laid him on the ground to examine him.

He was worse than either of the twins. His dark skin was covered with cold sweat, his back completely gouged out, caked with half-dry blood. His breathing was shallow and labored. Harry knew that it had been nearly impossible for the boy to get all the way up the seventh floor from the dungeons and was mentally kicking himself for not going in search of him sooner.

"Lee?"

Ron's strangled half-whisper made Lee open his eyes, which were filmy, as if glazed over with something. He opened his mouth to speak, coughed, and ended up spitting blood onto the Common Room floor.

"Hermione!" Harry called, looking around for the girl and finding her frozen in near the fireplace. "Hermione, he needs help!" She still didn't move. Her wand was shaking in her outstretched hand, her eyes fixated on Lee's back, looking disgusted and terrified. "Now, Hermione!"

She looked at him, and as their eyes met she moved. Kneeling next to Lee she managed a small whisper. Her hands skimming over his back.

"What'd you say?" Harry asked his voice tense as he waited for the answer. Lee was drifting back into unconsciousness.

"Essence of Dittiny." Hermione's voice was louder. "It's…it's in my trunk, Harry."

Ron stood up, not taking his eyes off the now-unmoving Lee. "_Accio__Dittiny__." _He muttered, pointing his wand in the direction of the girl's dormitory. Fifteen long seconds later a small brown bottle zoomed into his outstretched hand. He handed it to Hermione. "I'll get McGonagal again. He needs some more help." He quickly left the room, clambering through the portrait hole.

* * *

The day was an anxious one. The three tried unsuccessfully to complete the mountain of homework assigned to them, making no headway whatsoever. They didn't talk at all, though each knew what the other was thinking.

_I want to fly_. Harry thought, staring into the unlit fireplace. Never had the urge been so great. Flying would make all of this seem insignificant. But Umbridge had taken that away too.

Hermione suggest half-heartedly that they would make more progress at the library. Harry and Ron went with her just to have something to do. When they reached the fourth-floor corridor, they passed the Teacher's Lounge and the first strains of the argument hit their ears.

"I don't know what you are talking about, Minerva." Umbridge's simpering voice held all the evidence of false-innocence. "The boys did serve detention with me, that's true, but when I left they were all in perfect health."

Harry felt his nails bite into his palms. How could she tell such outright lies?

McGonagal was next, her voice getting louder with every word. "Both of the Weasleys were nearly dead when I saw them. I would have sent them to St. Mungose if I had thought they would get proper treatment. As it is, they are still only barely alive." Her voice was cold and hard.

Ron slipped down the wall, and Harry saw him murmur the words _barely alive_. A cold stone slipped into his stomach.

"The Jordan boy would be dead if someone hadn't given him Essence of Dittiny." McGonagal proclaimed, her voice bitter. Harry heard the sound of a chair skidding across the floor.

"Let me tell you, Dolores. I will not allow you to kill Hogwarts students." Harry could imagine Professor McGonagal towering over Umbridge. "And I will do everything in my power to make sure that your appointment as Headmistress is withdrawn."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione flattened themselves against the wall just the door burst open and McGonagal stormed out, her whole body shaking with rage.

At that moment, Harry felt he could not like the teacher more.

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	9. Doing

**I don't own them.**

"You're crazy."

Harry could not believe this. Two weeks ago, their arguments had been totally reversed, with he and Ron and Hermione wanting to fight and twins and Lee saying no. Now it was the opposite.

This time, the setting was the Common Room, late at night or early in the morning. Harry had lost track of time, and his argument was wearing down.

"C'mon Harry, listen to us." The seventh-year attempted yet again to make the younger boy see reason. "You know what she did to us, and the same happened to Lee. There is no way we can let her get away with that." This time Fred wasn't standing, but his hard glare from his position on the couch was just as defiant.

Harry suppressed a growl of rage. Why were all the Weasley's so damn stubborn? How did they always seem to make Harry do exactly what they wanted? But Harry knew, even if Fred, George, and Lee didn't, that to sabotage Umbridge again would mean more pain, maybe even death.

Harry started to pace again, seeing Ron and Hermione out of the corner of his eyes. Harry knew that Ron would help his brothers, even if Harry didn't, even if it meant getting detention. Hermione...she didn't like going against authority. For Umbridge she had made an exception, and her ability to lie was almost frightening. He couldn't be sure who'd they'd side with.

"What would you do this time?" Harry asked, more out of curiosity than anything.

Fred smiled, seeing Harry's defenses slipping. "Nothing new. We'll just do everything at once. That's why we need you, Harry. We need the DA. We can only get so many supporters by ourselves, and we need everything to happen at once, then George and I...well, we have a surprise just for Umbridge."

Harry opened his mouth, about to task exactly what this surprise was, then closed it again. With Fred and George, it was sometimes better not to know. From his position by the fire, Ron snickered, seeming to know _exactly_ what Fred and George were thinking.

Lee touched Harry's hand. He was laying on his stomach in front of the fire, head propped on a hand. "You know that they'll do it without you, Harry. You'll be helping them more if you just go along with it."

And that was it. Harry mumbled something under his breath before taking a deep breath. He knew, as Lee must have known, that there was no real way for him to stay out of another chance to get at Umbridge, not after everything the witch had done that year.

"Fine, I'll help, and I'll get some of the older DA in it too. Just promise me something." Harry felt the conversation from two weeks ago about to repeat itself yet again. "Don't get caught. That's all I'm asking, because there's no way you're going to get me to do this a third time."

George smiled broadly, and Harry could see that he was already going over a supplies list in his mind. Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair. What had he just gotten himself into?

* * *

"We going to need much better plans then last time. More escape routes, more lookouts, more things happening at once." George looked up from the plan laid out in front of him. "Basically, we just need more _people_."

Fred nodded vaguely, flipping through a copy of _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 7._ It was old battered, and full of underlined words and phrases written in the margins, having belonged to both Bill and Percy before him. Giving up on trying to read it, he reached for Lee's which had been used only by him and was much more legible.

Lee barely looked up when the freckled arm crossed his vision. He was, as ever, the potions maker, trying once again to decipher the handwriting of one of the twins and accidently adding an extra cupful of wormwood which set the potion bubbling. He hastily dug in his kit for the correct counter-ingredient, cursing both of the twins under his breath for writing in what must be Chinese.

Dipping his quill into the ink bottle, George rummaged in his trunk for the copy of the Marauders Map, which he and Fred had duplicated before giving the original to Harry. Muttering to himself about various floors and passages, George started trying to draw up the plan that they would use against Umbridge.

All three boys winced if they moved their backs too much, and George paused every few minutes, his hand posed over the paper, a look of pain crossing his face.

This time they'd be ready. They had to be.

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	10. Leaving

**I don't own them.**

George took a deep breath, looking around at his small battle-squadron consisting of Hannah Abott, Ernie MacMillan, Dean Thomas, Neville, and Hermione. He knew that Fred was on the staircases, ready with fire-crackers, stink bombs, and any other drop-and-run pranks. Lee was in the Room of Requirement, the least protected area. He had Harry and Ginny with him.

And he, George, got the bottom. The place that would have the most mayhem, especially when people started leaving the Great Hall after dinner. Everything would depend of timing and it was his group that would set everything off.

The plan had taken three weeks to make and recruit for. In that time, George's, Fred's and Lee's backs had stopped hurting at every move, but the scars embedded there would never go away. It was this thought that made George's hand curl into a fist as he saw, in his mind, the whip coming down, over and over, on Fred's back. He saw Lee being laid into the bed next to his in the hospital wing, all skin on his back gone.

He knew that he shouldn't let anger drive his actions. Dumbledore would have some crazy thing to say about revenge if he could see what they were doing. But Dumbledore wasn't here. That was the problem.

A hand touched his shoulder and he whipped around, startling Hermione and causing a spark of pain in his back. Trying to keep his voice low under his nerves, "what is it?"

She bit her lip, her eyes, as ever, looking as if they wanted to know exactly what was going on inside of him. "We have three minutes, at most." He nodded, his lips tight as his hand tightened around his wand.

The last part of the plan was the most dangerous, and they hadn't told anyone but Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They had to leave. Umbridge would know, or guess, how had executed this plan against her and would do everything in her power to have them killed. She could probably do it, too. No one outside the school seemed to know what was going on, and letters rarely got in or out anymore, having to pass the toad's examinations.

So they were leaving, for good this time. Hopefully Umbridge thought that they wouldn't go for the same trick twice. Lee would be summoning Ron's broomstick, which he'd surrendered willingly to their cause, with a warning that if they broke it, he'd ―

"Now, George!"

George sent red sparks up into the air, immediately bringing it back down and, with an extraordinary amount of concentration, caused a large black lab to erupt from the end of it. He looked at the silvery patronus, noting that a second, identical one joined in from above. He looked up. It was so like Fred to help him, even when he didn't need it.

Around him, those who could cast a patronus did so. Hermione's otter wavered for a second before joining the growing number in the middle of the floor, which included a rabbit, a fox, and a large, beautiful bear.

More spells were flying. They hold told everyone to do anything they could to cause chaos, but not hurt anyone. The floor was turning dazzling shades of orange, while the staircase was decidedly pink. Hermione had conjured small, twittering birds from thin air, and George added his own to her growing menagerie.

A large dragon swooped down from above. George looked up, barely seeing Fred before his brother ducked out of sight to get another firecracker. George watched the dragon proudly for a moment. Descriptions, courtesy of Charlie and Harry, had made their Hungarian Horntail very life-like.

The screams and yells started then. The dragon had flown up the staircase and was spotted by the first students coming out of their classes.

George easily made the Slytherin tapestry the size of a napkin, keeping one eye on the staircase and the patronuses that were gathered in the middle of the floor. George didn't fully understand Hermione's explanation, but if she was correct, the silver creatures should make it very difficult for Umbridge or Filch to get close to them.

The first teacher out of the down the stairs was Professor McGonagal. George met her eyes for the briefest instant and thought that he saw the twitch of her lips, the murmuring of 'good luck' before she swept by, pretending to admonish the students and set things right while really helping their cause.

He hoped that Lee was doing alright. His job was to track and slow as many members of the Inquisitorial Squad as he could, as quietly as possible. Since this involved direct combat, it was the one with the highest chance of getting cursed. Harry, Ginny, Katie Bell, and Angelina Johnson were in his group. Hopefully the five of them could take on the Squad members.

George heard Umbridge's high-pitched scream before he saw her. He winced, hearing her shout about (and probably at) his brothers, as she ordered them into detention. His stomach did a belly-flop at the thought of Ron and Ginny serving a detention because of him.

He was trusting McGonagal and the other teachers to object to further detentions. Over the past three weeks there had been an uproar over the condition they had been left in after Fred, George, and Lee had served their detentions and so far, Umbridge hadn't put anyone else through it.

George knew he'd have to get out of here soon. It would be Hermione's job to deal the last blow to Umbridge as soon as they were off the ground. Concentrating once again on his patronus, George sent it up to Lee. He knew that Fred would know that George thought they should get out. It was the most useful thing about the mysterious connection they shared.

As soon as his dark-skinned friend was in sight, George called for his broom, making his summoning charm as strong as he could while still holding his patronus. He was glad to see that Umbridge was finding it difficult to get through the wall of silvery creatures.

The one-sided battle continued to rage around him as more and more students joined the cause. Colors changed so rapidly George felt dizzy, chairs, parchment, and quills were sent flying through the air. Peeves had joined in, spilling ink on everyone. Dungbombs and stink pellets rained down from the staircases above.

George hastily mounted his broom, watching as Fred and Lee's broom went even higher than his, seeing Fred mount and kick off.

They were finally doing it. This should have happened a month ago, but better late than never. Soaring out the front door, he saw with satisfaction as Hermione performed jinx after jinx directly on Umbridge.

Fred muttered a spell, and the front doors swung open. George looked behind him for Lee and just saw him being pulled off his broom by Malifoy, who was then tackled by Harry. A scuffle started, with Lee still on the floor. George made to turn around when the first stunning spell was fired into the air.

Fred grabbed his arm, and they headed out the door ― stunning spells missing them by inches ― without Lee.

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	11. Winning?

**We don't own them.**

Harry didn't know what he had expected to come out of the Weasley's departure. Umbridge acting human? An end to the horrifying detentions? A complete uprising from the student body?

After the twins' left, Umbridge had a school full of their tricks to deal with. A swamp that didn't seem to want to go away, huge firecrackers in nearly every wing, and things suddenly appearing, disappearing, or changing colors all over the school.

Harry was glad to see that most of the teachers thought that seeing Umbridge running around like she had lost her head was well worth the price of having their classes disrupted. Harry also saw Professor McGonagal talking to professors Flitwick, Sprout, and even Snape, and Harry knew that she was telling them to put a stop to the detentions.

Harry was grinning when he climbed towards the dormitory that night. Fred and George were gone, and they couldn't be hurt by the awful toad anymore. Umbridge was off the walls, trying to put the entire school in detention and still failing to have any proof of who had executed this plan.

There was a loud party in the Common Room when Harry arrived. Grinning broadly, he excepted the proffered Butterbeer from Ron, who couldn't seem to stop grinning. Two fireworks, a pair of red dragons, swooped around the room, coming within inches of a person but never coming close enough to do any damage.

Hermione was sitting cross-legged in an armchair, a half-drunken Butterbeer in one hand and a pile of parchment in her lap. Harry crossed over to her, leaning over her shoulder to read the barely-legible, very un-Hermione-ish handwriting. "Homework so late?" he asked, still trying to decipher the words on the parchment.

Hermione blinked up at him as if she hadn't realized he was there. "Oh…no. They're Fred and George's notes. They gave them to me just before they left." She shifted a page, displaying a large, complicated-looking math problem with several cross-outs with an arrow pointing to it, reading "ha, George, told you it'd work!". "It's fascinating. All their spells were from scratch!" she let out a small laugh. "If only I could read their handwriting.

Harry shook his head, patting Hermione on the shoulder. "I'm sure Lee will help you. He should be around here somewhere."

They both looked around, but from the many bodies packed close together they couldn't discern the boy they were searching for. Hermione's face creased into a frown. "You know, I haven't seen him since Fred and George left. You sure the Slytherins didn't hurt him?"

"Yeah. I mean, me and Ron jumped in their and helped him, and we kind of lost track of him, but he should have been fine."

Hermione started, slowly, as if she herself didn't want to believe it. "What if he got the last of Umbridge's detentions? She would be looking for a way to get back at the twins anyway."

"But what would it prove?" Harry said, trying not to see the truth in her words. "We're probably just over-reacting. Besides, did you see Professor McGonagal? She wasn't going to let anyone get detention with that toad again."

Hermione still looked unsure, but Ron was suddenly at Harry's elbow. "Look at Lee." he whispered.

Smiling at Hermione, Harry turned around, expecting to see the boy involved in a joke of some kind. Instead, he saw him limping towards the boys' dormitory, shaking off people who came up to him, a pained look on his face.

Hermione scooped up the papers on her lap, putting them on a table under her Butterbeer and pulling out her wand. Harry weaved his way as fast as he could through the crowd, getting to Lee at the bottom of the staircase. "You alright?" he asked worridly, reaching out a hand to help the broken boy stay upright.

Lee nodded, eyes closing as he said, warily. "Long day." He looked out the window. "At least Fred and George got out. I don't think they could have lasted much longer with the way things were. Fred and George were never people to listen to authority." During this, Lee was wincing, moving his body slightly so as to agitate whatever new scars he had as little as possible.

"Let me help you, Lee." Hermione said, shaking slightly as she approached with a worried-looking Ron in tow.

Lee waved them off. "It wasn't as bad as before. Only hit me 'bout five times. Wanted to gloat, mostly." he shook his head slightly. "I can't get her voice out of my head. Stupid…" he said a few more words under them breath, some of them not in English.

Ron touched his shoulder, careful not to hurt the boy further. "We won." he said hopefully. "That's what matters, really."

"Did we win?" Lee said softly, still looking out the window at the purple-colored sky. "Did we win, in the end, or was it her?"

"No one can get hurt anymore." Harry said. "Not by her, at least. And Umbridge is out of here by the end of the year. No one's lasted long in that position."

Lee nodded slowly, smiling vaguely at them as he mounted the staircase. Harry watched him go, thinking of his words. _Did we win, in the end?_

**It's sort of sad and weird. At the end, it was mostly a parallel between this and Harry's reactions at the end of DH. Like, if so many people had to die and get hurt, is winning worth it? **

**Don't know if it is or not. You decide. **

**Review?**


End file.
